Guilt
by JustLittle0ldMe
Summary: Even if there came a time when it was inevitable that they were going to die. Even then, Reiner would protect him. [Bertolt/Reiner]


They were gazing at him. Their eyes full of unrealistic expectations and assumptions of his strength that even he himself knew were false. It was completely overwhelming; the weight of responsibility so hastily placed upon his shoulders. He could barely contain the tremble that resonated through his body and settled in his hands, nor the apprehension that swirled within his chest. As the soldiers escorting him continued to explain to him the situation, sweat began to bead on his forehead and trail down the side of his cheek, and even though he was listening intently to the details of the mission he was forced to accept, he cast his forest-green eyes to the stone floor.

As they approached a solid wooden door, illumined by the shadows that flittered across its surface from the small amount of light emitting from candles bound to the walls, the left soldier spoke.

"We're here." He said, his tone clipped and neat and everything a commanding officer would look for in their subordinates. "The captains waiting for you inside. He'll introduce you to the others who are to accompany you."

The seven year-old boy gulped audibly and quickly nodded to show that he understood the situation. His hands fumbled with the bottom of the plain white shirt that adorned his form; complemented by dark green baggy trousers which hung around his legs. Slowly he reached out and twisted the handle, the door opened with a soft groan that impaled the stifling silence hanging in the dark corridor. Normally a boy of his age would have found it quite difficult to reach for the brass handle without rising onto their tip toes; however Bertolt had always been rather tall for his age.

Walking into the small room, Bertolt immediately noticed four other individuals occupying the space. There was a bald man with a grey beard that sat behind a large desk located in the middle of the room; he assumed that this man was the captain he had been sent to speak with as his whole demeanour screamed authority. Three children stood stiffly in front of the desk and had turned to see just who had opened the door to the office. There were two boys, one with brushed back brown hair and a small smile on his face and another with short blond hair whose eyebrows were furrowed and eyes were regarding him. The small girl standing in the middle of the two had medium length light blonde locks and icy blue eyes; her whole expression was neutral and Bertolt had never seen someone appear so _dead_ before at such a young age.

Realizing they were looking at him he returned his gaze to stare at his feet and shuffled them slightly.

"U-um, I'm Bertholt…" he said trailing off, hoping that the Captain would realize who he was by name alone.

"Come in." The Captain said after nodding his head and acknowledging the extra presence.

Glancing back up for a split second, Bertolt realized it was an order and quickly moved to obey it. He closed the door behind him and proceeded to stand at the side of the blond male before the Captain, imitating his stance. The Captain watched them all from cool grey eyes before placing his elbows on the table and interlacing his fingers in front of his chin.

"Now that you're all here, I'll explain my reasoning for having summoned you." The Captain said, his tone as hard as the stone walls Bertolt passed on his way here. There was no emotion that could be deciphered from the expression that he wore. "I'm placing you in a training program to become warriors for our village. By the time you all turn twelve you'll be ready to accept the mission we have for you. Unfortunately, as you are now you are not prepared to take on its complexity and so we must wait until you are."

There was a pause in which silence stifled the room and Bertolt felt his throat tighten and a shiver race through him and sweat form on his face and body. The Captains eyes turned cold and a cruel edge as sharp as the newest blade appeared behind their depths. Bertolt dared not glance at the children beside him, though he was desperate to see their reactions to such words.

"I don't believe I need to stress just how imperative it is that you succeed. Mercy is an unfamiliar term to our village and failure will be met with the harshest of punishments; even death if the situations calls for it."

Bertolt's eyes widened and his hands resumed their trembling, out of the corner of his eyes he saw the blond boy next to him clench his hands into fists behind his back and stiffen even more so. He knew that they were special children. His mother had told him so; told him that they were the only ones capable of fulfilling this assignment. However he did not realize the magnitude of the consequences they would be burdened with if they should return unsuccessful. Bertolt was seven years old and already his soul began to crack with the beginnings of fear, control was a concept he did not possess and as such he felt helpless. His being swept along the river of orders with no will of his own to stop the flow.

After being dismissed the Captain suggested, in a tone that commanded obedience, that they acquaint themselves with one another; they were to be comrades after all and perhaps even responsible for one another's lives. As they made their way outside, Bertolt stood awkwardly as they introduced themselves. It wasn't necessarily that he was frightened of becoming friends with them, more so that he did not wish to be an outcast, did not wish to be rejected by them or told that he was not good enough. Bertolt did not wish for his inner most truth to be confirmed out in the open air.

The boy with combed back brown hair spoke first, a friendly grin split across his features. "I'm Marcel. It's very nice to meet you all." He said enthusiastically as if they had not just been informed of how grave the mission they were to train for was. Marcel's gaze flickered to the girl with blonde hair and his smile became teasing.

"And who might you be?" He grinned raising his eyebrows slightly and leaning in closer to the girl walking next to him. Bertolt glanced away with a small flush thinking that it was a private moment, however his ears listened intently for the girls reply.

For a second the girl did not speak, her expression did not change and she continued walking towards the entrance without a shift in stance.

"C'mon, don't be shy! I'm sure you have a lovely name." Marcel said encouragingly the grin not once sliding from his face nor dulling in its brightness.

Uninterestedly, the girls gaze slid to Marcel, watching him from the corner of her eye. A small voice escaped her lips and carried with it the name she had been given since birth.

"Annie." She said simply, before returning her gaze to the front and ignoring them once again. It seemed, however, that Marcel was not deterred by the rejection and began to chat to her about what their training might involve and whether or not they would get to ride on horses. Momentarily, he forgot about the two other boys that were walking beside them, too entranced by his own little world.

Bertolt peaked at the blond boy walking beside him taking in his appearance before shifting his gaze downwards when they locked eyes. He swallowed, feeling the eyes study him. Bertolt didn't expect the other to speak and being too shy to speak himself, didn't initiate conversation. Therefore it was a surprise when a voice, deeper than anyone his age should possess, entered his ears.

"Bertolt, right?"

He started at the enquiry and raised his eyes to look at the other boy, feeling a little self-conscious when he met the others intense gaze.

"O-oh, yeah. How did you know?" Bertolt stuttered, nervousness overriding his brain functions.

The other boy shrugged slightly, never once breaking their locked stare. "I paid attention when you came into the office, is all."

Bertolt felt his face warm and had to glance to the side in order to build up the courage to ask the question spinning through his mind. He had never been extremely talented in social interactions and to have someone pay attention to _him_ and what he had said was an extremely new feeling. He began to twist the end of his shirt between his fingers, wringing the dry material.

"What's your name?" Bertolt asked quietly.

The boy's lips curled up slightly in the corner as he watched Bertolt's actions. He knew this mission was most likely going to destroy them, cripple them in both body and soul. And Bertolt already seemed so jumpy and anxious and uneasy, shying away from conversations and people who tried to approach him.

"Reiner." He said eventually, before giving the other a small smirk. "Nice to meet you, Bertl."

And as Bertolt's cheeks reddened at the nickname and he gave Reiner a small smile as if granting him permission to address him as such; Reiner knew that he would protect this boy. Be by his side even when the situation itself seemed hopeless and everyone around them turned to look upon them with disgust. Even if there came a time when it was inevitable that they were going to die. Even then, Reiner would protect him.

* * *

Snores reached his ears from fellow trainees who had passed out after a long day engaging in hand-to-hand combat. And yet he lay there awake. His hands behind his head and his gaze locked onto the ceiling; tracing the mould stains with his forest green eyes. It had been many years since meeting the man who lay beside him and even to this day, the very memory of conversing with him for the first time brought him comfort and eased the sick feeling growing inside of his soul.

The unending guilt that forever surged through him, like the blood his body contained, was most prominent on nights like this. On nights when Bertolt knew exactly what their orders were and exactly what they had to do a couple of months from now. He did not dare dwell on the sins they had already committed. The hatred he held for himself was utterly consuming and Bertolt did not believe that he was capable of loathing anything as entirely as he did his own being.

"You're thinking to loud." A deep husky voice said from beside him and Bertolt flinched slightly, not anticipating the silence to crumble around him. As he shifted his gaze, he noticed that Reiner's eyes were closed and yet Bertolt knew that he could not sleep – would not sleep. Not after everything that had been done. Not after everything they had instigated. Sleep was a luxury for the innocent and the whole.

"I – Sorry." Bertolt said, turning his head to fully look at Reiner.

A deep sigh escaped parted lips, before hazel eyes opened and the body in which they belonged to shifted to regard Bertolt. In all the years Reiner had known him, his mannerisms and personality had not changed once. The only alteration that was prevalent to him was how tall Bertolt had grown; truly he lived up to the title placed upon him by human settlers.

"Couldn't sleep?" Reiner asked, already anticipating the answer he was to be graced with.

"No." Bertolt said softly, his gaze returning to the ceiling.

"Me neither. There's too much on my mind, it feels like it's gonna explode."

For a moment neither spoke; the air coated in unspoken admissions of guilt and weakness and emotions that they could not acknowledge. Then Reiner spoke once again, unable to deal with the quietness invading his ears.

"Think you're ready for the combat exam in a few days? I just hope I don't get paired with Connie, who knows how that would turn out." He said, desperately trying to pluck conversation topics and steer Bertolt's thoughts away from the poison that was leaking into his consciousness.

"Yeah. I mean – I was training all day, so hopefully…" Bertolt said trailing off; appreciating Reiner's effort to distract him from his current state. "It's not that hard to pass, right?"

Reiner shrugged awkwardly from where he lay. "Doubt it. It's just standard procedure, to make it look like we actually do something. It's not like Commander Shadis cares about what score we get."

"Good. That's good…" Bertolt breathed, before the guilt burned through him once again and his hands trembled from underneath his head and the butterflies that were a constant, raced and hit the lining of his stomach. "Reiner – I d-don't think I can do this anymore – I'm so – Their all gonna die and we can't – Oh god…"

His eyes clenched shut, trying unsuccessfully to block the images that flashed through his mind. Blood and stone and metal and flesh caressed the very recesses of his memory. The burning sensation of acid tickled the back of his throat and sweat dripped down his cheeks as his body began to shake.

"Hey!" Reiner said firmly, lifting himself off the bed and placing a hand on Bertolt's shoulder. "Bertl, snap out of it." When he received no reply or reaction, he took Bertolt's face in his calloused hands and gently raised his head so that their faces were level.

"It's okay. It's all okay, open your eyes." He said reassuringly. And slowly, forest green came back into view, the brows of which were furrowed and great pain lurking underneath the indescribable beauty that lay within.

"S-sorry – sorry…" Bertolt said, his voice almost inaudible and his expression haunted. Hauling him up, Reiner crushed him into an all-powerful hug; one so strong that his bones almost cracked and the echo of such a blow reverberated through the shell which contained him.

"Don't apologize. You were always too soft, but you're not weak you hear me?" Reiner said resolutely. Bertolt nodded into his shoulder, gripping back with as much ferocity as the other had shown him, clinging to him as if their broken selves could mend, as if they could mesh their remaining shards together and form a mosaic of the strongest material. Beauty born in the fires of agony.

"You can do this Bertl. I'm here, we can do this…" Reiner whispered into his ear, his tone rough and cracked. "It's just one order right? One command we have to follow, and then we can go home again."

Bertolt's trembling started to cease and his face began to warm at Reiner's proximity, however his grip did not let up, only tightened. "Promise?" he said quietly into cloth that smelled so utterly of Reiner he could feel the blanket of comfort envelope his innards.

"Promise." Reiner replied unwaveringly, without a moment's hesitation.

Pulling back, Bertolt regained his composure and took in a breath; steadying himself against the reality that was their very lives. Slowly he wiped the sweat from his forehead and cheek before glancing back up to Reiner.

Reiner's lips slowly curled into an affectionate smirk as he looked at Bertolt.

"You're blushing." He stated frankly.

Breaking eye contact, Bertolt looked to the side. "Um – I…"

Reiner chuckled. Not once had Bertolt lost the shyness that was so purely _him._ Even though it pained Reiner to know that Bertolt thought so lowly of himself, he could not help loving the warmth that sparked through him when he saw just how bashful the other could become.

Leaning forward, Reiner's smirk never left his lips. "Relax, it suites you."

Bertolt's breathe hitched as he watched Reiner lean even closer, bringing their faces mere millimetres from each other. Though they had done this many times, acted as the others pillar on many occasions previously and taken the pain the other felt without complaint acceptingly, Bertolt could not help his embarrassment. The absolute adoration he felt for Reiner was immeasurable. He knew deep inside that he did not deserve Reiner's protection, his devotion, his _love_ and yet he was too selfish. Too selfish to let the other go; he needed him like the heart needs the body and vice versa, needed him like oxygen and food and water and assurance.

Their lips connected and parted simultaneously. Reiner grabbing Bertolt's waist and pulling him closer and Bertolt holding on to Reiner's waist, stabilising himself against the security the other resonated. Neither wanted the moment too end. They were too hurt, too damaged to be alone; misery longs for company and in each other that is what they found.

"Reiner. Reiner. Reiner…" Bertolt murmured against the others lips seeking shelter desperately. In response, Reiner's grip tightened.

"I won't let you die, Bertl." He rasped harshly, brushing his lips against Bertolt's and easing up. "Trust me."

Reiner knew he was Bertolt's protector. His wall to lean on whenever the responsibilities hefted upon their shoulders weighed him down exponentially. The guardian to both his heart and his soul and no one would take that role from him – could take that role from him. Affection was felt mutually and returned ten-fold in a never ending spiral. Emotions including guilt, remorse, hatred, devotion could be found within both boys.

For after all, despite what anyone else believed, they were only human.


End file.
